


Caverns

by mdmpinkie9088, splatatata-SPOON (mdmpinkie9088)



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Alternate Universe, Female Agent 3, Gen, Language Barrier, Male Agent 4, Male Agent 8, Unreliable Narrator, VAGUELY I SAID, agent 8 centric, eight falls into the underground, has this been done yet, minor pearlina, this is the FOURTH TIME IM INPUTTING TAGS DANGIT, vaguely undertale inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdmpinkie9088/pseuds/mdmpinkie9088, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdmpinkie9088/pseuds/splatatata-SPOON
Summary: Below the bustling city of Octopolis, the Inklings live in watery caverns.(In order: The Octarians win the Great Turf War. The Inklings learn to swim in order to survive. An Octoling falls into a ravine.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> here it is. not finished, word count over nine thousand, and here it still is.
> 
> as a rule of thumb, if the pov character (agent 8) can understand it, its in the octarian language.
> 
> enjoy!

It starts like this.

The Octarians win the Great Turf War. With all their technological advancements, how could they have lost? In another world, a lucky Inkling would have been able to cut off power to the Great Octo-Weapons, but in this world, no such thing happens.

The Octarians stay on the surface. The remaining Inklings are forced underground.

The Octarians have always been technologically inclined, and if they had been the ones to retreat, then they would have found ways to compress their society, to avoid the large, underground caverns filling up with water. Inklings do not have this technological inclination, but they do have a different advantage: bioluminescence.

The Inklings proceeded through dark caverns, their tentacles lighting the way. And when they reached the water’s edge, the Inklings, with no other choice, evolved once more. They remembered how to swim in water.

This newfound ability led them to an immense gorge, halfway filled with water but with plenty of space to start a society. And so the Inklings carved their homes into the rocky cliff of the gorge, far from where they had first fled.

Meanwhile, the Octarians flourished under DJ Octavio’s rule, rapidly expanding their city, which they called Octopolis. Many creatures converged here, and although their city was strict and regimented, they were free to live in peace. 

The city grew, and changed, and only in recent years have the outskirts reached the mountains with underground gorges. 

And here is where the story begins.

%%%%%%%%%

_He has a name, he knows he does_  
_But losing it all when he falls_  
_Can’t remember who he once was_

%%%%%%%%%%

There’s a dull light, outside of his small, contented bubble of darkness.

“Hello?”

A voice. It sounded weird. The word is indistinguishable.

“Hey, get up. Can you hear me?”

It’s louder now, and he was aware of a throbbing pain; in his hands, his head, all over his body. Someone was gently shaking him. He opened his eyes.

It took a moment for him to focus, to blink away the blurry images to reveal- a face.

It’s a female face, that’s for sure. Green bangs framed her wide, pink, almond-shaped eyes and pale- almost ghostly- skin. Her ears were pointy, not round like every other octopus he’d known, and a strip of dark color crossed the bridge of her nose. Huh. 

Oh wait, she’s talking. He struggled to understand her.

“…and, hey, are you okay?”

A strangled wheeze was all he could manage. His throat was dry.

She kept mumbling. She’d reverted to a different language, and seemed to be talking to herself. He counted the warbles of her voice. Bubble, bubble, click. Click, clickety click, bubble, click. It was relaxing to listen to, but she seemed worried.

Eventually, she seemed to come to a decision. He watched as she crouched down to his level, and said, “Can you understand me?” in a slow, carefully pronounced manner. He nodded.

She gently grasped his arms and pulled him into a standing position. He wobbled, pain flashing before he gritted his teeth and shook his head. She quickly pulled him to lean against her, and asked, “Can you do octopus form?”

Octopus. Shift. Yes, he could do that. He turned into his octopus form with a plop, and she picked him up. He looked up at her and made an inquisitive noise.

“Okay?” she peered down at him, concerned. He burbled, and she smiled awkwardly, a little quirk of the mouth. Then she began to walk toward a darker area. 

He thrashed a little, rearranging himself to peek over her shoulder to see the spot he was laying in. It was the only illuminated area, and even then, only by a little bit. He vaguely wondered what time it was. 

Facing forward, he realized that he could still see a few feet ahead of him, which wass strange, considering the lack of light source. Then he realized that oh, hey, there is a light source, and it’s the person holding me. He felt a bit cheated, since Octarians were supposed to be the superior life form, but… whatever species she was could glow in the dark. Which was very useful and cool. 

He frowned. Where… where had he learned that Octarians were the superior life form? And, how did he know what he was? He racked his brain, but came up blank. Oh well. He’d think about that later.

In fact, he really ought to be focusing on what was happening to him at the moment, because it was only now that he realized- the girl was wading through a shallow pool of water, and carefully holding him out of range of the splashes. He startled, a bit, before realizing that if he squirmed too much, she could accidentally drop him and he’d just die. 

Belatedly, he realized that the water had no ill effect on her, which. Um. He’d thought she was just a different, weird type of Octarian, but with all the differences… it would make sense if she were something else entirely. 

Then she stopped, and lowered him to eye level. She looked apologetic. “I have to swim here.” She winced and added, “Sorry. I will be careful. You can sit on my head, okay?”

When he hesitated, she quickly said, “Only for a short time! I will get a boat!” Boat? What was that? Well, it couldn’t be that bad… he reluctantly nodded, and she placed him on her head before submerging.

Being so close to the water was terrifying, but luckily for him, the girl’s head was almost completely out of the water, giving him plenty of space to perch on. Her glowing tentacles, which were the only source of light, trailed behind them as she ferried him across the expanse of water. 

Eventually, they reached a small outcropping of rock, where she carefully deposited him. Her hands were wet from the water, but he was unharmed. He transformed back into his other form and looked at her, a little lost. She said, “Wait here. I will go to get the boat.” Still confused, he nodded at her, and she nodded back. Just when she was about to submerge, though, he managed to get out a “Wait.”

She paused, and looked at him. He swallowed, wondering if the water was drinkable, and croaked out, “Dark.”

She tilted her head. “Dark?” He nodded. She seemed to understand, then, and from- somewhere, a pocket probably, she fished out a small, glowing rock. He stared at it as she set it on the rock next to him. 

“Wait for me, okay?” was the last thing she said before her tentacles’ light went out and she effectively vanished. His eyes widened and he startled, but heard splashing a little ways off, and relaxed. She was probably in her octopus form, or her species equivalent.

Well, just him now. Him and the shiny, shiny rock. He stared at it, and curled into himself, wincing when the wounds he hadn’t been paying attention to reminded him that they were there. He squinted at the rock. It was smooth and geometric, and didn’t seem to be powered by any sort of electric circuits or anything. It just… glowed. Kind of a greenish color, to be honest. 

He sat there, trying to make out details of the cavern he was in. He knew he was on a rock outcropping, but the light of the shiny rock only showed his immediate area, and the rock was surrounded mostly with water. He peeked over to see his reflection in the pool of water, grabbing the rock so he could get a better view.

A teenage boy stared back at him. Tanned skin, dark, pointed shadows around yellow eyes. He had a single tentacle, two suction cups, hanging down from the middle of his head, and the rest of his head didn’t have any tentacles on it. His ears were rounded, and his eye-shadows didn’t connect in the middle like the girl’s. He also didn’t glow, a fact that he knew but was still slightly disappointed to be faced with.

He brought a hand to his ears, tracing the shape. His thoughts drifted back to the girl, and her strange, fundamental differences from him. What could she possibly be? Some sort of underground-dwelling, hybrid Octarian? 

A little snippet came to him out of the depths of his mind; a long time ago, there was a war, between the Octarians and another race: the Inklings, who were fundamentally like the Octarians but aesthetically different. The Octarians won, of course, due to their technology, and the Inklings were believed to have all died out. But… maybe they hadn’t. Maybe they had adapted. Maybe the girl was an Inkling, even though they weren’t as fundamentally similar anymore. That… huh. It would kinda make sense, he supposed. They probably adapted to live in the underground caverns.

Just then, he noticed a shape sailing quietly towards him. He could barely make it out, but it was backlit by a green glow. The girl was back.

The shape bumped gently against his outcropping. She appeared from the water a moment later, saying, “I am back.” He wasn’t so sure how to answer to that, so he was relieved when she didn’t seem to need an answer. Instead, she patted the side of the thing she had brought. “Go in!”

He examined it. The “boat” was made of wood, tied together with bundles of seaweed. It had little walls, and a place to sit, and its shape was like a rectangle with a triangle on top. If he was being honest, it looked sort of like a giant, wooden, weirdly shaped spoon with no handle. 

He pointed to the little seat. She nodded patiently. He tried to stand up, and only wobbled a little. The girl held the boat as he lowered himself onto the seat, keeping a tight hold on the sides and the shiny rock. Then, they were off.

He sat facing her as she pushed the thing from the flat side. He twisted around to see where they were going, but it was still pitch black outside of the little circle of light. “Where-” He paused to clear his throat. “Where are we going?” 

The girl only smiled, a mysterious upturn of lips. “Somewhere.”

A few minutes later, he could hear a song echoing quietly through the caverns, getting louder as they approached. It was at least three voices, one singing a slow, crooning tune while the other two provided a backing harmony that he thought added to the wistfulness of the song. 

Soon, he saw light coming from around a wall. He watched curiously as they rounded the bend. The light came most prominently from a small bonfire with a pot over it, and also from the shining crystals imbedded into the stone wall. Three people, glowing white, pale green, and yellow, were sitting around the fire, on raised stones, and behind them an old-looking shack was standing silently. The singing tapered off as the creatures around the fire noticed them and pointed them out.

The boat stopped right next to a floating platform of wood that was attached to the stone. The girl carefully tied it to a wooden post, and hauled herself up on top of the platform. She offered him a hand, and pulled him out of the boat. They walked toward the campfire, the girl supporting him as she called out a greeting to the others.

He was promptly ushered onto a rock, given a steaming bowl of some type of soup, and a blanket was tucked around his shoulders by an Inkling with a mole. He hadn’t even realized he was cold until the warmth washed over him. He pulled the blanket edges closer to him. One of the Inklings, the yellow one, offered him a spoon wordlessly. He took it, nodded in thanks, and began sipping at the soup gingerly. Ooh, it was hot. His focus was on the girl he had met first and the elderly one, who were conversing.

The older noticed him looking and asked him, “Feeling better?” in perfect Octarian. He blinked, but nodded. The old man laughed.

“That’s good. I’d hate to see a young kiddo like you freeze to death. I’m Captain Craig Cuttlefish,” he introduced himself. “We are the Squidbeak Rescue Brigade. Over there’s Agents Two, Three, and Four.” He points to the light green Inkling with the mole first, the girl who had brought him next, and finally the boy who had given him the spoon. They all waved a little. He waved back.

“So, I bet you’ve got some questions,” the Captain’s voice brought his attention back to the elder. “And I can assure you, I’ll probably be able to answer a good portion of them.”

He pondered the thought, then drank more soup to avoid answering. He did have questions, but considering how he could barely remember anything, it would be best to start with: “Who am I?”

Everyone looked surprised at this. “I’m sorry?” asked the Captain.

He fidgeted. “Um. Can’t remember.”

They all shared worried glances, Two leaning over to mutter something to Four. Three even leaned closer to ask, “Are you hurt?”

He hesitated before saying, “Umm… my head hurts. And body.”

They all sprang into action, Four running over to the shack, Three coming over to peer at his forehead, Two rummaging around behind her rock chair, and the Captain squinting at him through his tiny glasses. “You’re hurt? You should have said so earlier!” 

“Mmhh.” He made a sheepish noise as Four returned with a chunk of ice and a cloth. The cloth was quickly wrapped around the ice and set on his forehead. He sighed gratefully.

Two had brought out ointment and strips of seaweed, eyeing his legs critically. “Where does it hurt, kid?” She asked him. He pointed at his knees, and his left leg, and after a moment of deliberation his back as well. Two frowned and bubbled something that sounded like an expletive, before rolling up his standard-issue pants and dabbing at the scratches with some sort of stinging ointment.

Three, on the other hand, had flipped up the back of his blanket. He gasped in shock, and she mumbled an apology before prodding carefully. He jolted when she poked a spot that stung, and she then added something that made it burn. Hissing, he felt her apply a patch to it. He sulked at the thought of other people taking care of him, when he could have clearly done it himself.

The captain continued as they were tending to his wounds. “You don’t know who you are?”

“No,” he confirmed, grasping the cloth-wrapped ice with both hands as the cold soothed his aching hands. His soup was cooling on the seat next to him.

“That’s going to be an issue,” the Captain muttered to himself before sighing like the old man that he was. “Well, it can’t be helped for now. Finish your soup, kid,” he instructed, “and come to the shack when you’re done. You can sleep here tonight while we make arrangements for you. Two, come with me. We’ll set up the guest room.”

He blinked, nodded to acknowledge the order, and began finishing his soup with one hand. Two and Three seemed to finish up, leaving for the shack, and Four sat beside him to keep company. Lights inside the shack turned on, and he looked down at his soup.

“So, you…” Agent Four was attempting to speak to him, in Octarian. He shifted his gaze toward the other male and stared, sipping at his now-perfect-temperature soup. The agent flushed, and continued, his smile awkward. “I know little Octarian… you don’t… know you?”

A bit crude, but the meaning was there; he nodded. “Yes, I can’t remember.”

Agent Four nodded back and repeated it under his breath. He tried to string together a sentence, but discarded his thought and just said, “Empty head?”

He smiled. Agent Four may have looked a little nervous, but he was probably just unsure how to approach him. “Empty head.” The agent smiled at him.

They sat in a companionable silence while he finished his soup. Agent Four supported him as they hobbled over to the shack. Eight stooped to briefly remove his standard-issue boots.

Once there, they almost bumped into Three, who let them past with a nod. The immediate inside of the shack was a hallway, and there were two doorways on either side. Four nudged him toward the closest doorway on the left, which led to a small room with a bed. It had a pillow, and a blanket folded neatly on top of it. An assortment of gear was arranged on the wall, and on the floor a cot was set up. A little yellow fish was also sleeping on a pillow near the gear rack. It was simple, but nice. 

Four helped him sit on the bed, and opened the door of a closet he hadn’t seen coming in. A shirt and a pair of shorts were tossed onto the bed, and Four ran his fingers over his hair before saying, “Help…change?”

He looked at Four and took pity on him, motioning for the agent to turn around. Pulling off the old clothes and putting on the new ones as soon as he was turned away was a bit difficult, but he managed. They were softer than he was expecting, and felt like they had been worn many times before. “I’m good.”

“You take bed,” explained Four after he had turned back around.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” He questioned, a little delayed. 

Four shook his head and pointed a thumb towards the exit. “We waiting still.” He smiled, turned off the light (which was powered by electricity?) and said, “Good sleep!”

He lay down and looked at Four, but the agent had already ducked back outside. He turned over, to accommodate his injuries, and fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

%%%%%%%%%

_Caverns are dark, but you have friends._  
_Glowing with cheer, nothing to fear._  
_You’ll miss them when this story ends._

%%%%%%%%%


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eight has a dream. our newly named protagonist goes to splatfest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i got called basic and it got me thinking i should update this
> 
> this chapter is dedicated to curry and also mynameismarkus. thank you for your nice comments :D
> 
> disclaimer: i Do Not know how amnesia works, especially not for octopi.

He dreamed.

It started out pleasant enough. An endless expanse of sky, bluer than anything and filled with puffy white clouds. A radiant sunset over a glowing metropolis of futuristic technologies. A vibrant forest on a vast mountain, with deep ravines. And then… the feeling of loneliness. Being forgotten.

The beautiful sky rushed away from him, the air whistling as he fell. He scrabbled at the adjacent cliff but only succeeded in setting off a spinning motion that made his stomach twist. He tumbled as the cliff slanted. Then he saw the ground rushing up to meet him, meet him headfirst how could he not see that and-

He shot up, gasping. His injuries twanged with pain, but he was breathing too heavily to care. His thoughts raced with a grim undertone.

He looked over at the cot on the floor. Four was curled around the yellow fish, his glow dimming and brightening with the rise of his chest. The little fish’s curly whiskers glowed as well. It was still dark, but he thought it was late into the night. Four’s quiet snoring certainly aided that theory. Lying there for another few minutes, he decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

He padded outside, not bothering to put on his shoes and was faced with an open expanse, half rock floor and half water. The fire was out, and nobody else was outside, but the walls were studded with glowing rocks so he walked over to the campfire area. The cold rock bit at his feet. Maybe he _should_ have put on his shoes… oh well.

The wood had been doused, the pot of soup nowhere to be found, and a row of sticks stabbed into the dirt. Each had a little ribbon-thing tied onto it, and he rubbed one between his fingers before letting go. He sat down on one of the seats, wincing from the sudden twinge of pain from his still-tender injuries. Ouch.

He inhaled, letting the cold distract him from the dream that still swirled in the back of his mind. This outing wasn’t about that. It was about… seeing the campfire… area? Yeah. That. His eyes wandered for a moment before settling on the shiny rocks embedded in the walls. The outing was suddenly about them.

“Wow…” he breathed, tilting his head back. The rocks were scattered across the opposing wall and ceiling, resembling a starry sky. Except this starry sky was tinged with pink, yellow, and green-tinged lights. Two shades of green, actually. One more yellow, and the other more neutral.

He breathed again. The cold rush of air filled his lungs, and he breathed out, holding his frigid fingers to his lips, hoping to warm them a little. Maybe he should take that as a signal to go back inside. Standing up, he pattered over the rock to reach the little shack.

The walk had… helped, a little. Seeing the shiny stone wall had calmed him, and the eerie silence of the caves weren’t as intrusive as before. He went back inside, spared a passing glance at the other doorways, and entered the room.

He slept again, but this time without dreams.

%%%%%%%%%%%

_You’re not so sure, but day draws near  
_ _The waters loom but won’t bring doom  
_ _It’s such a different world down here._

%%%%%%%%%%%

When he woke again, it was still dark. He was going to have to get used to that. The little fish, strangely familiar now that he’d had the chance to look, was still asleep on the cot. Four, on the other hand, was missing, but if he listened carefully, he could hear voices outside, speaking in that bubbling, clicking language.

He stood up, taking a moment to orient himself. His injuries were almost completely healed, but he still felt a tender bit of pain in his back. He cast a glance at the fish before walking out onto the front steps of the shack, holding onto the walls for balance. After a quick stop at the entrance to put on his boots, he looked over towards the communal area.

The fire was lit once more, and five figures sat around it. He could recognize Two, Three, Four, and the Captain from their glows- Three was sandwiched in between Four and Two, while the unfamiliar fifth, who glowed a bright pink, was leaning on the Captain's shoulder and chatting amicably. Four spotted him, and grinned, waving. He waved back and as made his way over to them, Two scooted over one space and patted the seat she had been occupying. He sat down.

Three nodded at him and pushed a bowl of soup into his hands, while Two circled him to prod at his injuries. He winced as she peeled off the patch and applied more ointment, though it hurt less than yesterday had. She then came around to his front, unwrapping the bandage from his leg. The cuts had healed completely, thank goodness, and she patted his knee. “You’re good here. Does your head hurt?”

There was a fuzzy, vague pain at the back of his head, so he shrugged and made a so-so motion. “A little.” Two handed over a wet cloth, which was cool and bordering on cold. He gently draped it on the nape of his neck. “Thanks.” She waved it off and returned to her seat.

“Hello there!” The new Inkling was speaking to him. Her face looked a lot like Two’s, except her eye shape slanted more upwards, and her mole was on the other side. Her tentacles were black, and pink at the ends. She also smiled more, or at least looked more like she was smiling. Her eyes, though, were perfect replicas of Two’s. “I’m Agent One. I didn’t get to meet you yesterday, but it’s nice to meet you now!”

He didn’t know what to introduce himself as, so he just nodded and sipped his soup. She wasn’t deterred by this, instead tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Gra- the Captain told me you lost your memories. Any progress on that?” He thought about telling them about his dream. No, it wasn’t that important, so he shook his head.

“Hm, that’s less than ideal…” She muttered. “Hey, do you have a name?” He shook his head. “We should come up with one for you, then!” She repeated this statement, presumably, in the Inkling language, and everyone began discussing it. He couldn’t understand a lot of it, but some of the words sounded like “name” and “no.”

Three, noticing his confusion, leaned over to him. “Two says your name should be ‘suction cup.’” Maybe not. “Four says to name you ‘surface boy.’” Huh. “One says to name you… hm. Something like ‘round-head,’ but more… cute.” She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “I think you should be ‘circle.’ Because, you know. Circles.” She gestured to her head. “But, it is your choice.”

He nodded at her in thanks as Captain Cuttlefish interjected with his own suggestion. “Thank you. I… I’m not really sure about any of those names, though.”

She nodded, and patted his shoulder. He jolted, not expecting it, but he didn’t dislike it. “That is okay. Captain says you can be Agent Five if you do not like a name.”

Agent Five… he rolled the name around in his head. It was a good placeholder name, but… “Can I be Eight?” He liked that one better.

She shrugged. “Sure. Nobody is Eight, you can have it if you want.”

He nodded. “Eight. That’s my name. For now, at least.”

She seemed to accept this, and told the others in the Inkling language. They looked a little surprised, but accepted it as well. Eight avoided eye contact, instead bringing a hand to the back of his neck to retrieve the now-warmed cloth. His head didn’t hurt as much as before.

“Agent Eight! Good name,” said the captain, who patted him on the shoulder heartily. Eight smiled weakly, wincing internally. For an old man, the captain sure had a powerful shoulder-pat.

“Now, we’re going back to the Gorge- that’s the center of most of Inkling society,” explained Captain Cuttlefish. He pointed his cane at the little wooden floating things. “The other agents are going to swim, but since we can’t, we’ll ride in the boat!”

Eight had no idea how far away the Gorge was, but considering how long the ride was to this place, he felt like it wouldn’t be possible to just ink the walls and swim on them He helped them pack up, and carefully balanced himself next to the Captain inside the boat, avoiding the few supplies packed into the bottom. He looked up to see the rest talking amongst themselves. Four was holding the little yellow fish, which was making squeaky noises as the Inkling cooed at it softly. They all slipped into the water, barely splashing at all. He supposed it was for his and the captain’s benefit.

Twisting around, he saw One and Two settle themselves next to each other; it seemed they were going to push. He gave a little nod, and repositioned himself so he was facing forward.

The boat proceeded forward. Luckily, One and Two remained in their glowing Inkling forms, and the Captain was letting off a glow as well, illuminating the still water around them. Eight, wrapped in a blanket, nervously fiddled while he gathered his thoughts.

“So…” he started. “What is the… Gorge?”

The captain looked over at him. “The Gorge is the center of Inkling society! We’ve developed quite a nice dwelling down here, I should say.”

Eight nodded before asking, “Is it… very dark over there?”

Captain Cuttlefish laughed and thumped his back. Ow. “Actually, no! You know those glowing rocks back at base?” When Eight nodded, he continued. “They glow because we’re here, glowing too! We light them up! In the Gorge, they’re everywhere. I think you’ll like it.”

Eight, suddenly curious, turned to properly look at the Captain, instead of glancing over shyly. “Everyone glows?”

The captain nodded. “Yup! Most everyone! All Inklings can, and the jellies too, but some rely on crystals for light! Like Sheldon, he’s a horseshoe crab.” He sighed, suddenly nostalgic. “Takes after his great-grandfather.”

Eight had something else on his mind, too. He carefully ventured, “How do you have electricity?”

The captain leaned over, a glint in his eye. “Observant, aren’t you? We get it from the Zapfish, although not many areas need it.”

Eight tilted his head. He knew that Zapfish were a rare commodity, due to their incredible energy output, but the ability to swim in the water and release intense shockwaves made them a difficult target for hunters. They were highly prized, and would greatly ease the power struggle in the city. If the Inklings had tamed some, enough that they would freely provide electricity… Well. That spoke volumes about the Inklings’ character.

And… that was another thing he remembered out of the blue. At this rate he might have all his memories back by the end of the year.

“The yellow fish, in Four’s room, is it…?”

“Yes, it is!” The old man seemed delighted by the deduction. “Zappy’s our official mascot. We bring him with us whenever we change bases. In fact, Four and Three are swimming with him right now.”

Really? Eight peeked over the side of the boat, and sure enough, a dimmed glow was flitting through the water. He marveled at it, seeing how sprightly the little creature moved through the water with fluid ease. He reached a hand out, only to jerk it back. Right. Water. He bit his lip, and turned back to the Captain.

The question had been rolling through his head since the previous day. “How can they… swim in water?”

The Captain shrugged. “Beats me. When we first went underground, we could barely even touch it. Some managed to swim, some didn’t. We figured out how to make boats with wood we salvaged. Of course, nowadays everyone can swim.” He paused. “Well, not me. But every newborn can swim, from the day they were hatched.”

Eight nodded, a little in awe. He turned his attention back to the water, where a second yellow glow and a green one had appeared, dimly underwater. He observed as they blinked off, and on, and swirled around the first yellow light.

There was a pause. “Hey, kid. How’s Octavio doing up there?”

Eight answered without thinking. “The DJ? He’s doing good. His music is a little bland, but don’t tell anyone I said that.” He blinked. “Huh.” He supposed he was getting used to remembering things out of the blue.

The captain chucked, albeit a little more misty-eyed. “Same old Octavio.” He clapped his hands and pointed his cane forward. “Well, we’re almost there! Do you see the lights?”

Sure enough, they were approaching a wall, with kelp covering the entrance. Colorful lights shone through the gaps, and as they passed through the curtain of kelp, Eight got his first view of the Gorge.

Large crystals grew out of the walls, illuminating the massive cliff-like faces, shaped into large steps and connecting in the middle to create a space where Inklings milled around. Tree roots twisted through the stone, around holes carved into the walls, and created paths that connected the two sides like bridges. Some rope-and-wood bridges also crossed paths, and there was a large, stone area where the water stopped. There were paths worn in the stone, winding around and occasionally crossing the roots, leading all the way to the highest area and even crossing near the ceiling. The walls were full of shining stones, reminding him of stars. Colorful lanterns decorated the entire place, along with little flags of kelp.

Eight couldn’t take his eyes off the spectacle. Everywhere he looked, Inklings, Jellyfish, and even a few other non-glowy creatures were mingling in colorful, draping clothing. They chattered and laughed around the wall divots, some of which seemed to be selling clothing, food, and- weapons? Small squids with colorful mantles ran around, blowing bubbles and playing with pinwheels. Further back, an area was separated from the stone ground by water and elevated slightly, splitting the water that seemed to continue on in two different directions beyond it. There were some creatures on it, playing music on strange instruments. Inklings were gathered there, too, contentedly listening to the cheerful, breezy song.

“What… is….” He managed to say to the Captain, not even looking back as the sight in front of him made him ache for something he couldn’t remember.

The captain patted him on the back. “We’re getting ready to celebrate! That’s why all the lanterns are here. Nice view, eh?”

“It’s amazing.” He meant that sincerely. “What are you celebrating?”

The old Inkling sighed as they approached a wooden pole just barely surfacing near the rock surface. “The end of the Great Turf War, and how it led to our civilization down here. It’s a fine spectacle, with food, music, and battling, but it does bring back some memories.”

The boat drifted to a stop next to the pole, and soon Agent One popped up to tie a rope connecting the boat to the pole. She smiled at him, and gestured invitingly toward Three and Four, who were standing on the rock surface already. Eight carefully balanced himself, dropped the blanket and jumped out, patting himself down and shivering as the Captain, One, and Two joined them.

“Stay together, okay?” One told Eight with a worried tone. “Me and Marie have to go perform, but you guys should stay together.”

Perform? Marie? What? He nodded, a little confused, as they chattered at Three, who responded, then smiled and headed through the crowd. Come to think of it, they were actually wearing clothes that matched the rest of the Inkling’s garments. Did they change? He carefully slunk behind Three and Four as they all linked arms to proceed. “What are we doing?”

Four explained, “Getting food!” He patted his stomach twice. Eight then noticed that his clothes also resembled the rest of the crowd. As did Three’s, and even the captain’s, who had chosen to sit on a raised rock near the shore. He looked down at his own attire as they passed through, eyeing the plain t-shirt, shorts, and boots he had arrived in. At least in the crowd, he wasn’t as cold anymore, but he felt underdressed for the occasion.

Soon they reached a little shop, which had the most amazing smells coming from it, as well as a long line. Eight felt his mouth watering as he suddenly felt hungry for the tasty dishes. The signs above the long line depicted a variety of drink options, as well as what looked to be prawns arranged into dishes. Three turned and said something in Inklish to Four, who cheerfully responded and held his hand out for the coupon Three was giving him. Four glanced at Eight, but Three shrugged off his concern, saying something and pushing him toward the end of the line.

Their arms still linked, Three weaved through the crowd, dragging Eight in her wake. He stumbled, and asked, “Where are we going, Three?”

Continuing on, she replied, “Getting clothes.”

They arrived at a little divot, full of clothes racks. A Jellyfish with a sophisticated-looking bow tie bowed in welcome, greeting them. Eight bowed back. Most prominently displayed were the draping clothing style that everyone was wearing, in different colors, but if Eight looked past them, he could see regular shirts and pants over in the back.

Three was already rifling through the stacks, murmuring to herself under her breath. Eight approached the clothes as well, taking a dark green one in hand. It was softer than his uniform, and woven from very thin strips of some very soft thing. He rubbed a hand over it, feeling the texture under his fingertips. He reached for another, wondering if it would be rude to rub his face against the soft cloth.

Something tapped him on the shoulder- it was Three, and she held one of the fancy garments out to him. It was navy blue, with a yellowish trim. He blinked at her, looking down at it and then back at her face. She shook it out, then gestured for him to turn around. He complied, and she slipped the fabric around his shoulders one at a time.

“Hold it like this, okay?” Three came to his front to show him how to close the jacket-like adornment, then looped a sash around him before returning to her prior position. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but when she announced, “Done.” the sash stayed on, hugging the fabric to his body. He turned his torso, admiring how the clothing folded.

The Jellyfish babbled something, and Three mumbled back to him before pulling out a purse and counting out pale, white shells. Eight realized that she was paying for him, and tried to signal with his hands for her to abstain. She shook her head and handed the shells over to the Jellyfish. He fiddled with his hands and looked down at his shoes. He hadn’t changed them, he realized as he stared at the standard issue boots, given to every school-goer his age.

Fortunately, Three seemed to be aware of this as she went to the stall next door to grab a pair of elevated wooden slippers with oversized socks. She brought them back and guided him over to a seat, where he tugged off his boots and socks and replaced them. He stood, admiring the muffled click of wood on stone. As a final touch, she nudged him toward a stall with a colorful sea slug manning it and told him, “Pick one. For your head.”

The stall was full of colorful little trinkets, each weaved with the glowing crystals. He pored over them, picking up an eight-pointed yellow piece that matched the hem of his robe. He turned to Three and held it out. She took it and tucked it behind his ear before saying something to the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper replied in a whimsical tone, and Three frowned before saying something else. The sea slug sighed, and seemed to relent, taking the handful of shells Three offered. He felt a rush of gratitude to Three for getting him his new clothes.

“Thank you, Three,” said Eight, putting as much sincerity into his words as possible. She only nodded in return and led him through the crowd once more. “I can try and pay you back later?”

Three looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. “No need. This is a welcoming gift.” His eyes widened, and he made a hum of acknowledgement. “Besides-” she mumbled something in her own language, tugging him back toward the line.

Eight’s stomach grumbled all of a sudden. He looked around, sheepish. Three looked at him, amused, before linking arms and walking over to Four, who had exited the line and was holding three items. Three called out to him and he responded, handing her one and the other to Eight. She nodded in thanks, and Four smiled at him. “You look cool. Here, enjoy!”

As the others dug into their meals, he examined his first. It seemed like a prawn, fried to a golden brown and sandwiched between a little bun, covered in condiments. With his inspection complete, he took a bite, and what felt like heaven exploded into his mouth. His eyes widened. It was very different from the food he couldn’t remember eating, that was true, but it was a good different. He dug in with gusto, the crunching prawn dissolving on his tongue and making him hum in bliss. He caught sight of the agents, who were looking at him with amusement. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and hid his face behind the rest of the treat as Four giggled.

They ate in a comfortable silence; Eight taking his time like the other two. Four was drinking something dark out of a metal cup, and Three had a prawn with some light cream and brown sauce on top. Both of them seemed to enjoy it, but Eight was perfectly fine with his own. He chuckled as Four reached over and stole a piece of Three’s, who yanked the cup out of his hand and took a long swig, much to Four’s shock. Three glanced over at him and stuck her tongue out, prompting an indignant noise from the other Inkling. Eight shook his head but smiled at their antics.

A random thought struck him- how long had he been underground? He raised a finger in question, and the Inklings stopped their pseudo-argument to look at him. “Ah… how long have I been… down here?”

Three hummed. “I found you at 6:28 yesterday. We got to base at 6:42. Now it’s 7:57. So, around 13 to 14 hours.” That was… precise.

Four interjected in Inklish. Three frowned and muttered back. Eight couldn’t get the nuances, but he recognized some numbers as being the same in Octarian. Four had said, “Fifty-nine.” Three had argued back, “Fifty-seven.” They stared each other down before simultaneously turning to Eight and fixing him with their stares. He squeaked, suddenly nervous at their fierce expressions.

They seemed to realize his complete lack of knowledge of the subject, and both relaxed slightly, though the competitive air still surrounded them. Four asked him, “What time is it?”

Oh. He instinctively looked at his wrist, but there was nothing there, so he held his hands up sheepishly. They both looked abashed, and bowed their heads in apology.

Suddenly, a drumbeat sounded. Four and Three grumbled, “Fifty-eight,” as everyone turned to the raised platform on the other side. Now that Eight was looking at it, it looked an awful lot like a stage, especially with the ensemble of instruments assembled on top, as well as two colorfully-clad Inklings- one pink, one green.

There were cheers as the figures began waving to the audience. They exchanged a banter, to raucous applause, before hefting their instruments and beginning to play. The twangs of the strings mixed with the steady beat and the reedy flute, created a rhythmic, whimsical tune. The Inklings began clapping in rhythm to the song, swaying back and forth cheerily.

Then, to his surprise, a chant started up. The lower part was sung by the lower voices. “Ya, weni, murei, yuri, marei, kyari, fe, fe fe!” The verse repeated as the females on the stage began singing, joined by the higher voices in the crowd. “Chop-peri po… shura-shura fe nan-yuruni, yuri-ha pe-ra-ni… Nan-yu-runi, yuuei-ni-ra shura-harahi, nyuru-nire-hara fe-fe-fe!”

Eight looked around, watching everyone around him sway to the beat. The song had merged into a single melody, clapping and stomping to add to the beat. Even Three and Four were singing, lending their voices to the song. Four was even clapping, and nudged Three to do the same. “Ya! Weni! Marei! We-nin-yura kyare! Juri! Yu mi-re kera-son!”

Eight was suddenly hit with an intense bolt of feeling. His eyes widened, his tentacle curled, and he inhaled sharply. The melody had wiggled into his soul, and was gently curling around his emotions. He could only look out at the sea of Inklings, all swaying together, and he felt like he was a part of their community, if only for a moment.

It must be magic, he decided, as the singers continued leading the chant. “Ki-re! Hyari! Nu-ri hera-he nyura-hera nun-nyura u-nera yu-ra we-ra fii-mera! Na!”

Eight closed his eyes and swayed, feeling light. Is this what being a wave in the ocean felt like? “…ki-re! Hya-ri! Nu-ri hera-he nyura-hera, nun-nyura u-nera yu-ra we-ra fii-me-rani!”

The crowd erupted into cheers and whoops as the song ended with the striking of the drum. Eight opened his eyes and stared ahead. It had ended so fast, but the song was still with him.

“What… the song?” The melody had rung in his heart, thrummed in his soul, opened his senses. He wasn’t paying attention to the singers’ announcements, only turning to the Inklings beside him for an explanation.

Four and Three shared a look. “That was our anthem,” explained Three. Four muttered something, and she muttered back before turning to Eight once more. “It is in the soul of every Inkling. We know it by heart.” She glanced at Four.

“It is ‘Calamari Chorus,’” said Four slowly. “Song about surface, then come under to live.” He paused. “Echo through cave good.”

“Wow…” Eight breathed. He couldn’t will himself to stop swaying. The song had been so beautiful, so dazzling… it had freed something forgotten.

Three glanced at Four, then leaned closer to him. “You okay? Not dizzy? Do you need to lie down for a bit?”

Eight shook his head. He would be fine. They looked a bit skeptic, but linked arms with him to wind through the crowd once more. It was a slower, more careful journey than the last.

“Where are we going now?” He wondered aloud. Three was in front, leading them, but Four, who was next to him turned and smiled.

“Celebration!” was all he said. And off they went.

%%%%%%%

_An old war’s end they celebrate_  
_And though they lost with heavy cost,  
_ _They’re satisfied with species’ fate._

%%%%%%%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you couldn't tell, (and i don't blame you if you couldn't) everyone is wearing kimonos.
> 
> also can you tell i don't know how far a normal person (with 20/20 vision) can see??
> 
> i crave validation: feel free to tell me what u thought

**Author's Note:**

> how was that for a first chapter? good? bad? extremely bad?
> 
> well, anyway, thanks for reading!


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